Ruined

  She jumped to her feet, glancing down at his knuckles. Of course they weren’t bruised. Whatever they’d done to Damian, they’d had the guards do it for them.

  She barely held back from curling her lip in disgust.

  “I hope you don’t that mind I waited for you,” she said.

  “Not at all. I was upstairs reading. I wanted some time to think.” He dropped the book on the table, sliding his hands into his pockets.

  “Oh. I looked everywhere for you.”

  “It’s a hidden room upstairs. I’ll show it to you sometime.” He smiled. “Did you need something?”

  “I heard about the Ruined you captured. You’ve seen him?”

  He nodded slowly, an emotion she couldn’t identify flickering across his face.

  “What—what happened? Why is he here?”

  “My father wants information.”

  She twisted her fingers together, her stomach churning. What kind of torture were they inflicting on Damian?

  “Don’t worry, you’re safe,” Cas said. “We’ve been draining him of his power.”

  “Are you going to see him?” she asked. Perhaps she could casually tag along.

  “No, we have that dinner tonight.”

  “Dinner?”

  “My father wanted to throw a celebration for the hunters before he sends them back.” He gestured to his shoulder, where Em could barely make out a bandage beneath his white shirt. “Trying to appease them, so they won’t attempt to kill me.”

  She’d completely forgotten about the stupid dinner. She let out a long sigh. “I guess I should go get dressed.”

  “I’ll meet you outside your room in half an hour?” Cas’s lips curved up. She quickly turned away, wondering if she’d be able to avoid looking at him for the rest of her time in the castle. It wasn’t fair that such a terrible person had that smile.

  “Half an hour,” she said as she rushed out of the room.

  Davina helped her into a red dress with a slit in one leg almost to her hip, then pulled a few strands of hair back in thin braids. The rest of her hair hung loose. The maid dusted powder on her cheeks and rubbed bright-red cream on her lips.

  “There,” she said, standing back to admire her work. “You look lovely. The queen will be very happy.”

  Em sighed. She did look lovely, but she was tempted to spread some dirt on her face just to spite the queen.

  Cas appeared at her door right on time, his eyes sweeping over her as she stepped out of her rooms. His fingers brushed against her wrist, sending sparks up her arm, and she almost jerked it away.

  “You look beautiful.” He seemed like he might want to take her hand, so she quickly crossed her arms over her chest and started down the hallway.

  They arrived at the ballroom, where the dinner was already in full swing. The hunters sat with the king, queen, and Jovita at the long table in front, and the dance floor was full of laughter and energy as people spun and swayed.

  Em watched the hunters carefully as she walked with Cas to the table. She had rarely crossed paths with a hunter who didn’t see the end of her sword, but a few had escaped her. She didn’t recognize any of them, and it was unlikely they would have recognized her either. Not in this dress, with lipstick on and a prince on her arm.

  Jovita introduced the four men as Em was seated with Cas on one side and a young hunter named Roland on the other. Roland had only two pins on his jacket, and luckily seemed more interested in draining his wineglass as fast as possible than talking to her.

  She took a few sips of her own wine, letting the liquid warm her veins and ignite a fire in her stomach. Aren stood at the far corner of the room, dressed in his Lera guard uniform. His expression was blank, but she knew it was only because he was struggling to keep his emotions under control. He could snap the necks of most of the royal family just by looking at them, and she was tempted to tell him to go for it.

  “Cheer up, Roland,” one of the hunters—Willem, she thought—said, clapping the younger hunter on the back.

  Roland tipped his wineglass back and wiped a hand across his mouth. “I’m cheerful on the inside.”

  Em swallowed down her disgust for all of them and plastered a smile on her face. “How are things out there? The king said the Ruined are trying to cross into Olso?” It was the last thing she wanted to talk about, but it would be helpful to hear the hunters’ perspective. Find out how much trouble the Ruined were in.

  “We keep spotting them near the border,” Willem said. “Killed a couple before we heard from the king that he wanted one for questioning.”

  “Most are evading us,” Roland muttered.

  Willem gave him a sharp look. “We’ll track them down eventually, Your Highness.”

  “Are you going back soon?” she asked, hoping the answer was yes.

  “We’re off first thing tomorrow,” Willem said. He grabbed a chicken leg as a server put a plate in front of him. “Some of the guards are going to have to take over questioning that Ruined we captured.”

  “Better them than us,” Roland muttered.

  “You’ll get used to it.” Willem chuckled, and Em glanced down at his rows of pins. Eleven—no, twelve. “I gave the guards a few pointers. Told them to take his whole hand next time, instead of another finger. They start figuring out how many fingers they can get by with, and cutting off a few doesn’t have much of an effect. But taking a whole hand”—he lifted his fist and lowered it quickly, miming chopping off a hand—“that takes them by surprise. Creates real panic so he’ll start talking.”

  The room tilted, and she knew she was about to lose control.

  No, not about to. It was gone.

  “How lovely that you can talk so casually about torturing a fellow man,” she snapped. “You must be so proud of the trail of bodies you’ve left behind you.”

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw Cas’s head snap to her. Willem’s smile faded, and Roland muttered something she couldn’t understand, raising his glass in front of him.

  She quickly stood, bile rising in her throat. She rushed away from the table so quickly she almost tripped over her dress. She had to hold the material away from her feet as she pushed open the ballroom doors.

  “Mary!” Cas called from behind her. Footsteps pounded against the floor, and he was beside her, his fingers lightly wrapping around her arm. “Please wait.”

  Her eyes had filled with tears, but she stopped and turned to him anyway. His expression softened. “Are you all right? What did they say to you?”

  She shook her head, blinking back tears as she pulled her arm away from him. His fingers left a trail of warmth down her skin, and the rage boiled over, screaming to be released.

  “You talk about death here as if it’s an achievement,” she spat. “Like it’s something to be celebrated.”

  “Sorry?” His eyebrows knitted together.

  “Your father started all of this,” she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth, almost against her will. “He marched into Ruina and murdered their queen and everyone else in sight. He solicited help from the king and queen of Vallos and then didn’t send Lera soldiers to protect them from the inevitable retaliation from the Ruined. You act like things are so beautiful and peaceful and wonderful here with your cheese bread and fancy clothing and beaches, but it’s all built on the backs of the people you murdered.”

  She took in a slow, shaky breath. She wanted to grab the words and shove them back in.

  “Bit hypocritical, wouldn’t you say?” he asked with a frown.

  “Hypocritical how?”

  “You killed the Ruined king in order to marry me. Doesn’t that make you the same as him?”

  She almost snapped that she hadn’t killed anyone to marry him, though that was a lie. She’d killed Mary.

  “That’s different,” she said, and he let out a disbelieving laugh. “It is! The Ruined were invading Vallos, and your father said they would only help if I helped them. I did what I had to do to survive.?
??

  “Maybe my father also did what he thought he had to do,” Cas said, his voice rising. “Why is it different for you?”

  “It just is!” she said, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

  “Forgive me if I’m not convinced by that argument.” He rolled his eyes.

  “Are you really comparing your father murdering thousands of people to me—”

  “Why is it that you get to set the rules for what is justified and what’s—”

  “I am not setting the rules!” she yelled. “I am saying that—”

  “That what you did is acceptable,” he interrupted. “But when it comes to my father, he’s a murderer worthy of contempt.”

  “Fine!” She spread her arms wide. “I’m a monster. Is that what you want to hear? I’ve murdered people, and, if you want to know the truth, I’m not the least bit sorry. They had it coming.”

  Cas had his mouth open like he was going to yell again, but he closed it, hesitating for a moment. “I wasn’t saying you’re a monster,” he said, his voice calmer.

  She pushed her hands through her hair, a sick feeling clawing up her stomach. Maybe it was a lie to say she wasn’t the least bit sorry. She thought about Mary sometimes. About that piece of hair dragging through the dirt as her dead body disappeared into the night. She wasn’t sorry Mary was dead, but she wasn’t totally comfortable that she’d been the one to kill her.

  The door swung open and the king stepped through, turning a glare from Cas to Em. “What are you two yelling about out here? A staff member told me you were screaming.”

  “It’s fine,” Cas said quickly.

  “I hope you’re educating your new wife about how we treat guests in Lera.” He jabbed a finger at her. “I expect you to at least be nice.”

  “Nice?” she scoffed. “You ordered me to kill someone in exchange for marrying your son, put me into a battle as soon as I arrived, and between murderous hunters and Olso warriors who might be plotting something, I’ve rarely felt safe since I set foot in this castle. Nice isn’t high on my list of priorities.”

  The king turned so red he was almost purple, but he seemed incapable of getting words out. He sputtered, jabbed a finger at Cas for no apparent reason, and stomped back into the ballroom.

  A sound like a laugh came from Cas. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen my father rendered speechless before.”

  “I should yell at him more often, then,” she muttered. “He could stand to be speechless occasionally.”

  Cas laughed, clearing his throat like he was trying to hide it. He painted a more serious expression on his face. “I’m sorry my father asked you to kill the Ruined king to marry me. I objected, if that makes any difference to you.”

  “It does. But I don’t agree with what your father did in Ruina. You’ll never convince me that he was right about that.”

  “I don’t disagree,” he said, startling her. He stared at the floor, rubbing at something with the tip of his shoe. “He got me out of bed last night, to see the Ruined when they brought him in. I’d never seen a Ruined before.”

  “And?” she prompted, expecting a fresh wave of anger. But the way his shoulders had curled in and his face had rearranged itself into a frown made her hesitate, made her want to hear what he had to say.

  “And . . . it was impressive. And scary.” He glanced at her. “When you killed a Ruined, would you provoke them to use their powers first? To weaken them? Is that how you killed the Ruined king? What was his power?”

  “He ruined the soul. Could make you see visions and believe things that weren’t true.” She swallowed, the image of her dead father flashing across her vision. “And no, I didn’t. I just snuck up on him. Attacked before he could react.”

  “Did you see his other daughter? Emelina? Is she still alive?”

  “I didn’t see Emelina.” Her own name sounded strange, said out loud to Cas.

  “My father wanted her dead too.” Cas swallowed. “But she disappeared after her family was killed. And why would you care about a useless Ruined? If she doesn’t have any powers, she’s not dangerous.” He seemed to be talking more to himself than Em.

  “True,” she said with a hint of bitterness.

  “I’ve always thought it was kind of harsh, to call them ‘useless.’”

  “It’s the most apt description,” she said.

  “They can resist a Ruined’s power, if they want, right? That seems like something. I wouldn’t mind having that ability.”

  “The Ruined don’t attack each other,” she said. “So that ability is just as they describe it—useless.”

  He looked at the ground again, his face drawn. It didn’t seem like Cas was bothered by long silences, or even noticed they were happening. She waited a few moments, until he started talking again.

  “He isn’t much older than me,” he said quietly. “I’ve been thinking about how I would feel if the tables were turned. If it were me, captured by the Ruined, waiting to die. I think I would be terrified. And really angry.”

  “Angry,” she repeated.

  “Because what did he do?” His voice was almost a whisper. “If I’m being totally honest, that’s why I got mad at you when you said that about my father. I think you’re right. We’re executing all these people for a crime we think they might commit. We think they might be evil. They brought Damian in because he was trying to cross into Olso, which technically has nothing to do with us. What else has he done? Why does he deserve what they did to him last night?” He gestured at her. “If he was one of the Ruined who killed your parents, shouldn’t you decide how he’s punished?”

  “Yes.” Most of her anger had evaporated, leaving a heavy feeling in her chest and a sudden desire to wrap her arms around Cas. “And if it were up to me, I wouldn’t do anything like your father.”

  He nodded, a sad expression on his face. It must have been painful, to realize your father was a monster.

  She cleared her throat. “Are you going to tell your father any of what you said to me, or am I the only one brave enough to speak my mind to your father?”

  He cocked his head to the side as he studied her. He took several quick steps forward, until he was right in front of her, and put both his hands on her cheeks. Her entire body collapsed in a heap when he touched her, and she couldn’t stop herself from curling her fingers around one of his arms. His skin sparked and sizzled beneath her fingers. He was fire she could touch. She held on tighter.

  “My father was wrong.” His eyes burned into hers. “You should never be nice.”

  His gaze dropped to her mouth, and she thought for a moment that he might kiss her. But he noticed something behind them, and he stepped back as a staff member passed by.

  She lightly brushed her fingers across her cheek, still searing from his touch. “I’ll make sure to not be nice to you from now on.”

  His lips twitched up. “Good.” He held out his hand and she slowly slipped her fingers through his. “Are you ready to go back in? We can go be not nice away from those hunters.”

  She barely moved her thumb against his hand, returning his smile. “Let’s do it.”

  Em spent the evening avoiding the hunters, sticking to Cas’s side as they moved around the room saying hello to governors, friends, and the king’s advisers. Cas held her hand for most of the evening, ensuring that she forgot everyone’s name as soon as they said it. She had only a vague recollection of the evening, except for how Cas’s skin felt against hers. She remembered every detail of that.

  “I need to go talk to Jovita,” Cas said as the dinner began winding down. “She’s been giving me that look for an hour.”

  Jovita was jerking her head with a frown, indicating that she wanted to talk to Cas.

  “She probably wants to complain about me,” Em said as Cas slipped his hand out of hers. “Tell you to get me in line.”

  “Would you let me get you in line?” Cas asked with a laugh.

  “Oh, definitely not.”

  “T
hat’s what I thought.” He grinned at her over his shoulder as he walked away, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him until he was halfway across the room. A piece of his shirt had come untucked in back, and she wanted to grab it and pull him back to her.

  She cleared her throat and pushed the thought away. She was being ridiculous. She had bigger things to worry about than Cas and his adorably rumpled clothes.

  She glanced over at the hunters’ table. Roland had left for the night, but Willem was still there, his cheeks red from the wine. His brow furrowed as he stared at something across the room.

  He was staring at Aren.

  An icy hand grabbed her heart. He was looking at Aren as if he recognized him.

  Aren noticed his gaze but was obviously trying to pretend he hadn’t. He turned to the right, saying something to the guard next to him. He caught Em’s eye for half a second, and she could read the fear in his expression. He recognized Willem too.

  Aren stepped away from the line of guards, scratching the side of his face as he strolled out of the room. He was clearly trying to be casual, but Em recognized the stiff line of his shoulders.

  Willem stood and followed him.

  She instinctively reached for her sword but found nothing but her dress at her hip. She suddenly hated the stupid dress.

  Cas was still talking to Jovita, and the king had moved across the room to flirt with a pretty woman. Em watched as the hunter pushed open the doors and disappeared through it.

  She walked as fast as she dared, hitting the doors several seconds after Willem had slipped through. She pushed it open slowly, peeking out. Willem was rounding the corner to her right, headed for the back of the castle.

  She took a step forward, her shoes clicking against the stone.

  “Em—Mary.” Aren’s soft voice came from behind her, and she whirled around. He peeked out from behind a corner.

  She rushed down the dark hallway to him. The sounds of the dinner drifted away. The curtains were drawn over the windows, and the lantern across from them wasn’t lit. If she knew Aren, he’d extinguished it himself.

  “You know that hunter?” she whispered.